


What Comes After Death

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Angst, Lime, M/M, Sappy, Yaoi, au-ish, by Anria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 02:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13537428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by Anriadeath fic, but, again, not in the way you'd expect





	1. Pain and Regret

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


Heero stayed behind long after everyone else had left, including the people who had filled in the grave.  
  
He stared at the turf that had been rolled out over the new grave, at the carved headstone, at the flowers people had left. He'd been standing there for hours, waiting for it to finally sink in.  
__  
Duo Maxwell, A.C. 179 198.  
  
Duo was dead.  
  
Really dead, this time. During the wars they'd all nearly died hundreds of times, and Heero had lost count of how many times he had been terrified that it really was all over, that Duo was dead. Yet somewhere, deep inside, he had known his lover was still alive, somewhere.  
  
But now he really was dead.  
  
He had seen the body. He had been asked to verify its identification, asked whether or not the dead lump of flesh lying in the morgue in the hospital truly was Duo Maxwell, former Gundam pilot. He had seen the bloodstained braid, the bullet wound, the whitened skin, the glaze over the cobalt eyes. He had been the one to close those eyes, simply needing to touch Duo, to see whether it really was him lying there dead on the cold metal bench.  
  
Heero shut his eyes. Duo, his lover, his love, the person he had lived for during and after the wars, was dead, killed by a teenage punk barely more than a year younger than them so he could buy drugs with the two dollars and fifty cents Duo had had on him.  
  
And the last thing he'd said to him had been. . . .  
  
Heero fell to his knees, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes. This was the memory he had been dreading. He had tried to stop it coming, tried since he had first got the call from the hospital, but his mind was merciless in its punishment of him.  
  
He remembered. . . .  
  
+  
  
Duo peered over his shoulder into the laptop's screen. "What are you doing?"  
  
Heero knew something was wrong instantly. His lover's voice just didn't hold the usual amount of customary cheer that was Duo's trademark. "What is it, Duo?"  
  
For once he didn't side-step the question. There was a long pause, and then; "Heero . . . I need to know."  
  
Heero frowned and twisted in his chair to see his lover's face. Duo had plunked himself down on the bed, eyes wide and serious, chewing on his bottom lip. "Know what?"  
  
Duo remained silent for so long that Heero began to focus on the one sound in the room, the song blasting out of Duo's stereo, Chrissie Hynde's nasal drawl assailing his ears.  
  
"I play a good game  
But not as good as you  
I can be a little cold  
But you can be so cruel  
I'm not made of brick  
I'm not made of stone  
But I had you fooled enough to take me on. . . ."  
  
"What, Duo?" Heero repeated eventually, beginning to get irritated. In the years since the end of the wars he had mellowed considerably, especially with Duo. It took him a lot longer to get irritated with his loud-mouthed lover now.  
  
"Heero, I. . . ." Duo bit his lip and looked at a loss for words, which yelled from the rooftops that something was up with him. Heero's frown deepened into a scowl.  
  
"I need you to tell me how you feel," Duo blurted. "About us, I mean. I love you, Heero, more than anything, but we've been together for what, nearly three years now and still you haven't said. . ."  
  
Heero knew exactly what he hadn't said.  
  
"Duo, spit it out."  
  
"I could leave it for so long, but I can't any longer. Heero, I need to know if you love me. I need to know if you truly care about me the way I do about you. . . . Please, tell me you love me. . . ."  
  
Duo's face was a study in hesitant hopefulness. So, even after all these years, he still had doubts. Heero stared into his lovers eyes and had doubts, too. He was silent for a long time, thinking. He knew he loved Duo, without a shadow of a doubt. But he had thought that Duo would know it too, whether he said it out loud or not. He had thought Duo would trust him enough to not need words. Obviously he had been wrong.  
  
And that hurt.  
  
Even as he was thinking this, his mouth opened, lips and tongue working independently of him when he said, "I don't love you, Duo. I've never loved you, and I never will." Hurting Duo like he had been hurt. Taking away security and need.  
  
It was a stranger who had taken over his body. Heero sat in the back on his mind and watched in amazement as he turned away from Duo's stricken face, a broken heart scrawled all over it, and resumed typing on the keyboard.  
  
He would turn back in a moment. He would regain control in a moment, and tell Duo he was sorry, he hadn't meant it, he truly did love him but that it hurt that Duo doubted. . . .  
  
A small choking noise sounded behind him, and then the door slammed behind his lover as he ran out of their tiny apartment.  
  
Suddenly Heero was in control again, and he jumped up, sprinting to the door and running after Duo. He bolted down the stairs in time to see a black-clad figure crash out onto the street and run. And for once Duo was faster.  
  
Breathing hard, Heero came to a halt a few blocks away from his and Duo's home. Duo had outrun him, sprinting hard and relentlessly. A couple of years without a war had left Heero in a worse physical condition than he'd realized: still fit, but not fit enough.  
  
So he'd go back home. Duo would have to come back at some point.  
  
Heero returned. He waited. And waited. And waited. For three days. He didn't eat.  
  
Duo's music taunted him.  
  
"If love was a war  
It's you who has won  
While I was confessing it  
You held your tongue  
Now the damage is done  
Well there's blood in these veins  
And I cry when in pain  
I'm only human on the inside  
And if looks could deceive  
Make it hard to believe  
I'm only human on the inside. . . ."  
  
The phone rang on the third day. Heero stared at it, not daring to hope.  
  
"I thought you'd come through  
I thought you'd come clean  
You were the best thing  
I should never have seen. . . ."  
  
He moved towards it, put a hand on it and took a deep breath, steeling himself to face Duo's anger and Duo's pain.  
  
Both would rip his insides, but he had to tell Duo. . . . Had to tell him. . . .  
  
He picked the phone up.  
  
"But you go to extremes  
You push me too far  
Then you keep going till you break my heart  
Yeah, you break my heart  
See I bleed and I bruise  
Oh, but what's it to you  
I'm only human on the inside  
And if looks could deceive  
Make it hard to believe  
I'm only human on the inside. . . ."  
  
A stranger's voice. "Mr. Heero Yuy?"  
  
Heero's fledgling hope deflated. "Yes?"  
  
"This is St. George's Hospital. Do you know one Duo Maxwell?"  
  
"I crash and I burn  
Maybe someday you'll learn  
I'm only human on the inside  
I stumble I fall  
Baby under it all  
I'm only human on the inside. . . ."  
  
Fear put a cold hand in Heero's gut and clenched. "Yes," he replied cautiously. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"I think you had better come down here. . . ."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I'd rather explain face to face, if you wouldn't mind."  
  
"Is Duo okay?"  
  
"And the damage is done  
Well there's blood in these veins  
And I cry when in pain  
I'm only human on the inside  
And if looks could deceive  
Make it hard to believe  
I'm only human on the inside  
I crash and I burn  
Maybe someday you'll learn. . . ."  
  
"Please, Mr. Yuy, just come down to the hospital."  
  
"I _\--_ I'll be there in ten minutes," he said, and hung up.  
  
+  
  
Heero knelt in front of Duo's grave and remembered it all. The mad dash to the hospital, the doctor explaining to him that Duo had been shot, there was nothing they could do, he was DOA. . . .  
  
Dead on arrival.  
  
Duo's eyes, staring at him. Accusing. _It was your fault I left,_ they seemed to say. _Your fault I was killed. You ruined it. We could have had the rest of our lives together, but you had to screw it up, didn't you. . . ._  
  
I'm sorry, Heero tried to tell them. _I never meant to hurt you, I don't know what I was doing, please forgive me. . . ._  
  
Heero pulled Duo's crucifix out of his pocket, gold chain wrapped around his fingers, intertwined with them the way Duo had been intertwined in his heart and mind. So tight he could never let go.  
  
Heero fisted the cross. It was Duo's, it should have remained with him, but he couldn't let go. He couldn't ever let go.  
  
"Heero."  
  
He stiffened, dark head bent. _The last thing I want is pity. . . ._  
  
Quatre came forward and put a hand on his shoulder. "Heero. Come away. There's nothing more to do."  
  
"What do you know," Heero muttered, and wrenched his shoulder out from under the other boy's hand, standing up.  
  
Quatre's large blue eyes were compassionate. "Do you want to stay with me and Trowa for a while?" he asked gently.  
  
"No," Heero answered. "I . . . I think I'll go home now."  
  
"Do you want us to drive you?"  
  
"No. No."  
  
"Heero. . . ."  
  
"No."  
  
Quatre nodded. "If there's ever anything you want, don't hesitate to ask," he said, and turned away. He paused. "Heero, Duo would want you to live and be happy." His blue eyes bored holes into Heero. "Don't deny him that."  
  
Heero turned away.  
  
After a moment he heard Quatre walk off, Trowa's low murmur greeting him. He knew they were both staring at him, worrying. He knew they wanted him to accept their offer of friendship to get him past this.  
  
He kept his back towards them.  
  
Quatre was right, that was what really galled. Duo would want him to live. The loud-mouthed, long-haired, irrepressible baka would want him to live. Would want him to live, when all he wanted to do was die. Unconsciously, the cross slipped between Heero's fingers to the grass at his feet.  
  
So he would give his lover that much.  
  
But he couldn't be happy. Duo was his happiness.  
  
Heero bowed his head over the grave of the one person he had given himself to, body, heart, mind and soul. And whose he had shattered with one lie. "Duo . . . aishiteiru. Forever."  
  
But he would never be able to tell him that.  
  
+  
  
"I'm worried about Heero," Quatre told his lover as they drove back from Duo's funeral. "He's really fallen to pieces."  
  
"Give him time," Trowa said. "He'll pull through."  
  
"But what if he doesn't want to?" Quatre bit his lip, eyes troubled. "I mean, you know Heero. He doesn't cry, doesn't really show anything, but I get the feeling that somewhere inside he's screaming."  
  
"He won't try to kill himself if that's what you're worried about, Quatre," Trowa told the Arabian pilot, gently stroking the back of his neck. "I think something happened just before Duo died, and argument or something. Heero won't kill himself because that's not punishment enough for how he failed Duo."  
  
Quatre bowed his head. "You're right," he said. "I hate to say it, but you're right." He raised his head,  
  
face determined. "We have to help him."  
  
Trowa made an affirmative noise. "Let's wait until he wants to be helped, though."  
  
"No. If we don't start now, it won't ever get to the point where he wants to be helped."  
  
"All right, then."  
  
"I'll go to see him tomorrow _\--_ "  
  
_"Quatre!"_  
  
Quatre had suddenly doubled up, groaning, spots clouding his vision. There was blinding pain tearing into him, ripping him apart, he was dying, he was going to die . . . _oh, God, Duo, I'm sorry. . . ._  
  
Big blue eyes slammed wide open as Quatre realized it was Heero's pain he was feeling.  
  
Both physical and emotional.  
  
Trowa's arms closed over him, pulling him close and soothing the aftershocks of pain as the contact snapped in an instant, leaving him with final, definite knowledge.  
  
God, this was the same as with Duo. "Heero . . . Heero is. . . ."  
  
Trowa pulled him closer. "I understand," he said.  
  
---


	2. A Lack of Remembrance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

  


Heero floated.  
  
He had no idea where he was or what he was doing there. He drifted in a calm white mass of _something_.  
  
He had been floating for what seemed like hours, when a small noise caught his attention. The echo of a child, laughing.  
  
The laughter came closer, and with it the sound of small feet. Heero kept his eyes shut.  
  
"Niisan . . . are you lost?"  
  
Oh, no. Not the nightmare again.  
  
Heero screwed his eyes up tighter and tried to sink further into sleep.   
  
"That won't work, you know. You're not asleep."  
  
His eyes flew open and he slammed into an upright seating position. Involuntarily, his eyes strayed to the small girl standing beside him. She gave him a sunny smile.  
  
"Where am I?"  
  
"Oh, so you _are_ lost. Lost without your lover."  
  
Heero blinked. She had the appearance of the girl he had killed, the appearance of a small child, yet she spoke like an adult, and she couldn't be here with him, because he was alive and she was dead and the two did not mix. . . .  
  
Suddenly he remembered.  
  
Duo's funeral. Driving away. Sudden noise and blinding pain. . . .  
  
Then nothing.  
  
"Where am I?" he repeated.  
  
"Silly, you're dead. You're hovering between heaven and hell."  
  
"I don't believe in heaven or hell."  
  
"Doesn't matter. You're the one who decides whether you go somewhere you suffer, or somewhere you have fun."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You died, Heero Yuy. And you were so screwed up when you did, so much in pain with so much to think about, that your subconscious could not decide whether to send you somewhere you could live and be happy, or somewhere you would be completely miserable." The girl folded her hands in front of her and smiled an angelical little smile at him.  
  
"I. . . ." Suddenly it occurred to him that he was here, with the girl he had killed so long ago, and that this was his chance to say sorry. "Girl . . . I'm sorry," he said in one big rush. "I never meant to hurt you or kill you. . . . I am so sorry I took the rest of your life away from you. Please, forgive me."  
  
"You didn't," she said sunnily.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You didn't take the rest of my life away from me," she said. "I wasn't going to have a rest of my life. When your explosion killed me quickly and without any pain, I had already developed the beginning of a painful, incurable cancer. So you see, you did me a favor. And my name isn't girl, it's Maria."  
  
"Maria," Heero repeated, then looked at her sharply. "Where's Duo?"  
  
"Duo was miserable when he died, and was so confused that he took your apparent rejection of him as failure on his part. He's in hell." Maria shook her blond head. "Catholicism. If I had a gun, I would go shoot Saint Peter. He's the one who has made hundreds of good people over the ages send themselves to hell because they didn't live up to the Catholic church's standards."   
  
The white mass of _something_ flickered briefly, then settled into exactly the same texture as before.  
  
Maria looked at him curiously. "Oh, so you've made your choice."  
  
"Nani?"  
  
"You've decided on hell."  
  
"I have?" Heero paused. "Makes sense," he muttered.   
  
"Why?"  
  
Heero stared at her for a long moment out of Prussian blue eyes, then said, quite deliberately and clearly, "Heaven without Duo would be hell."  
  
The white mass was beginning to coalesce into a street. People were appearing, walking along on the pavement around the newly-appeared Heero and Maria. They paid absolutely no attention to them.  
  
"I can't stay here for long," Maria said. "But . . . think about this. You've brought yourself to hell, because that is where Duo is. But hell isn't nasty little demons toasting you over an open fire. Hell is the worst possible thing your life could turn out like. And you're in hell. If a world without Duo is hell for you, what makes you think you'll be able to find him?"  
  
Heero looked down at her, considering. "Hell would not be a world without Duo," he said. "Hell would be . . . something worse. And I think I've already been there, so I know how to deal with it."  
  
Maria looked skeptical. "Well, good luck," she said. Her small form was already fading. "But Heero . . . if you do find Duo. . . ." Her voice was fading.  
  
"What?" Heero called, and strained over the noise of the street to hear her reply.  
  
"Don't expect him to know you. . . ."  
  
Momentarily confused by this enigmatic statement, Heero steeled himself and looked around. Yes, he knew this place. It was only a short walk away from the apartment he and Duo had shared.  
  
_So, time to find out what Duo's hell is._  
  
Heero began walking towards their home.  
  
+  
  
Duo crashed on the bed. Shit, another long day at work. Oh, well, it kept his mind off things, he supposed. Kept him from dwelling for too long on. . . .  
  
He shook his head abruptly, short ends of his hacked-off hair whacking his cheeks. He regretted cutting it off now. But Heero had always been playing with it.  
  
It was too much of a reminder.   
  
Duo buried his face in his arms. He kept trying to block the memories out, but they kept coming back. Everything, every little thing that hadn't made sense, the cold mask that had sometimes slipped over his face when Duo was saying he loved him, the never-ending silence, the suicidal tendencies. All of it added up in one big rush when Heero had finally told him the truth.  
  
_I don't love you, Duo. I've never loved you, and I never will._  
  
Kuso!   
  
Duo shoved himself up off the bed and went into the bathroom. Heero had been gone by the time he got back. His laptop had vanished, and so had his clothes. So quickly. Maybe he'd been planning to leave for a while.  
  
He stared at himself in the mirror. Hildie, sod her, had said he'd lost too much weight. God, she'd been behaving like a mother hen recently. "Duo, you have to eat. Duo, come out with me. Duo, stop overworking yourself." Duo snorted. His falsetto impression of her voice echoed around the tiny room in increasingly sarcastic tones.   
  
But then, he was gaunt. His eyes had sunk into his head, his cheekbones stood out in stark relief against his skin, and his clothes hung loose. He'd been slender to start off with, but now he was skeletal.   
  
The hair didn't help.   
  
The bangs had grown until they were almost the same length as the hair. The hair itself was barely chin-length, and had ragged edges. Duo had sawed it off the day after Heero left. He remembered cutting himself, because he couldn't see for the tears.   
  
"Jesus, man, get a hold of yourself," he muttered, staring into his lifeless eyes in the mirror. "Heero's gone. He's not coming back. Ever. So get on with your life."  
  
But without Heero, what life would he have?  
  
Duo scrunched his eyes shut at the insistent little thought at the back of his mind. Ever since he was sixteen, Heero had been at the center of his thoughts. His life. His world.  
  
It obviously hadn't been reciprocated _._  
  
He swore viciously, and knocked the soap and toothbrush flying with one savage sweep of his arm. They flew across the bathroom to crash into the opposite wall with a satisfying _thwack!_  
  
Someone knocked on the door.  
  
Duo gripped the edge of the basin hard, and wished the person would leave. If he stayed here long enough, they would think he wasn't home. They would go away.  
  
Someone knocked again.  
  
Duo shoved away from the basin and stalked to answer it. He yanked the door open and was faced with a tall boy about his age, with an unruly mop of brown hair and Prussian blue eyes.  
  
He didn't recognize him.  
  
"Yeah? What do you want?"  
  
The boy was staring at him in shock. "Duo, what happened to your hair?" he blurted.  
  
Duo frowned. The boy obviously knew him, but while there was something naggingly familiar about him, he couldn't place it. "Do I know you?"  
  
"You don't remember me." It was a flat statement.  
  
"No, I'm afraid not."  
  
"Can I come in?"  
  
Duo tried to stare him down, hoping he'd get the message and backtrack. He didn't, and Duo heaved a reluctant sigh and stood aside. The strange boy walked in.  
  
"What happened to you, Duo?" he asked as the formerly long-haired pilot closed the door. "You're gaunt. You're hair's gone. And you look half dead."  
  
"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to criticize someone in their own house?" Duo snapped.  
  
The other boy looked at him out of eyes that were suddenly sad. "And you don't laugh any more."  
  
"What's there to laugh about?"  
  
"You always used to laugh at anything. It was one of the things I loved about you."  
  
Duo stiffened. "Who are you?"  
  
The other boy snorted softly and looked at the floor, unruly bangs shading his face. "We lived together for three years whenever we got the chance and you don't remember me."  
  
Duo stared harder. "I don't know who you think you are, but I would remember somebody I had lived with for three years. And I don't remember you. So I think you have the wrong person, and I would like you to leave."  
  
The other boy stood up from where he had been leaning against the chest of drawers and walked over to where Duo was standing, holding the door open. He paused beside the other boy.  
  
Duo saw him open his mouth, and hesitate. He stared at the parted lips and wondered why there was this intense impulse to lean over and capture the lips under his own, to feel the other boy's arms around him and lips on his.  
  
He'd only ever felt that way with Heero.  
  
The boy took a step closer, and suddenly Duo's face was taken between two strong hands. He stared up into Prussian blue eyes that were only an inch away from his.  
  
"Duo." The boy breathed his name like it made him ache. "I told you I didn't love you. I told you I had never loved you, and never would. I lied, Duo. I don't know why, I have no excuse. But I needed to tell you that I lied."  
  
He paused, and Duo found himself waiting with bated breath for his next words. Somehow they seemed to fall into the emptiness left by Heero inside him, and start to heal the wounds.   
  
"I . . . Duo, I've had to fight myself for years to try and say the words to you, and I haven't yet. I didn't think I could, but the thought that I'd lost you has made me come here, and it's let me say this. Duo . . . I love you. I loved you almost since the first time we met, never mind that you shot me then. And I will always love you. Whether you remember me or not."  
  
The boy moved forwards, and Duo's eyes shut of their own volition as he felt lips on his. Somehow, this felt right. It felt like home. The way Heero had.  
  
It was over too quickly. The other boy moved back, still cupping his face securely between two strong yet gentle palms, and breathed, "You don't remember me. But I will always remember you. Aishiteiru, Duo, forever. And if you want me to go I'll leave."  
  
The boy choked the last sentence out as though it shredded him inside. He took a step back and let Duo's face go, intense blue eyes searching for any hint of recognition.  
  
He didn't find any.  
  
Something very close to pain flickered across his face, and then a cold, expressionless mask slammed down in place of it. And the boy walked out.  
  
Duo stared at where the other boy had stood for the longest time, before finally snapping out of it long enough to shut the door. He slumped on the bed, still staring at where he had stood, remembering.  
  
Something about him. . . . His voice, his eyes, his kiss. . . .  
  
Duo shook himself. Despite the strangeness of the encounter, the other boy's words had fallen inside of him like water on a burn, not healing but soothing. Soothing the wound left by Heero.  
  
Almost absently, he made his way back into the bathroom. Staring at himself in the mirror, he suddenly felt shocked that he had let himself get into this condition. Putting a determined expression on his face, he drew out a pair of scissors and cut the bangs to their proper length, then, wincing inside that he had actually cut off his braid, his pride and joy, he trimmed the ragged edges until they were all roughly the same length.  
  
Then he went in search of food, still pondering the identity of the strange boy whose words had left him both shocked and unsurprised, but overall, with a feeling of peace.  
  
Now, like a burn, it would heal given time. And the scar would fade.  
  
+  
  
Heero leaned against the wall outside the building and hung his head, hair hiding the tears streaming down his face from passers-by.   
  
God, it hurt. Maria had warned him that Duo would not remember him, but to be confronted by a complete mess who didn't recognize him. . . . What hurt the most was that Duo looked like he was trying to starve himself to death. His hair was gone. His long, beautiful hair, was gone. And his cobalt eyes were sunken and bruised, looking as though he had seen a lifetime of pain.  
  
And he'd stared at him like he was a stranger.  
  
Heero wiped the tears off his cheeks. The only good thing to come out of that meeting had been that he had finally told Duo the truth. He had finally told the one person he truly loved how he felt about him. And had given him one last kiss.  
  
Heero stared up the building to the window of his and Duo's room. No, just Duo's now. He no longer had a place in his lover's life.  
  
No, that was wrong. He no longer had a place in his lover's death.  
  
This was hell, then. There was only one thing left to do.  
  
He hung his head, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and walked away.  
  
Time to go pay a visit to Relena.  
  
---


	3. Be Happy, My Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Anria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

****

  


Duo was stuffing his face with a chocolate éclair when he remembered.  
  
He had called Hildie and said he wanted to go out to lunch, would she mind joining him. She had been delighted, grinning like crazy when she appeared at his front door. She hadn't stopped grinning all afternoon.  
  
Food had never tasted so good, he had decided. Now, as for that boy. . . . What had he said? _I loved you almost since the first time we met, never mind that you shot me then. . . ._  
  
_You shot me then. . . ._  
  
Duo's eyes went wide, and he sprayed a mouthful of cream and bun all over the table. Stammering an apology to a bewildered Hildie, he ran out of the shop as fast as his legs would take him.  
  
Heero.  
  
Heero had come back to him, and he hadn't recognized him. Heero had stood in front of him, and he hadn't known that face. Heero had told him he loved him. . . .  
  
And he had told him to leave.  
  
Duo bolted for his home, then skidded to a halt outside. _If I was Heero, where would I go...?_ He ran for the nearest spaceport, praying with all his might that he wasn't too late.  
  
+  
  
"One ticket to Earth, please," Heero said in an expressionless monotone to the woman behind the desk. She grunted and began typing.  
  
Heero put his bag on the conveyor belt and clenched his jaw. So this was hell. He nearly laughed, but choked the bitter sound back.   
  
What he'd told Maria had been right. Hell would not be a world without Duo. Hell would be a world with Duo, but a Duo who didn't want him. And he was living it, now.  
  
It felt like there was a troop of gleeful little demons seated inside him tearing him to pieces.  
  
"Name?" the woman snapped.  
  
Heero was just opening his mouth to say it, when someone said it for him.  
  
"HEERO!"  
  
Heero whipped around, eyes wide and staring. He knew that voice.  
  
True to his expectations, Duo was sprinting up the outside of the queue, short brown hair whisking out to come back and slap his cheeks. Almost unconsciously Heero pulled his bag off the conveyor belt before the bad-tempered woman could whisk it away, and stepped out to meet him.  
  
Duo crashed into him, nearly knocking him over backwards. "Heero," he gasped, breath coming in ragged spurts. "Heero . . . don't go . . . I remember. . . ."  
  
"You do?" Heero demanded, hardly daring to hope.  
  
Duo nodded violently, cobalt eyes tinted slightly with violet staring up at him in a face filled with desperate hope. God, it was the same look he'd given him that fateful day. . . .  
  
"Heero . . . did you . . . mean it. . . ."  
  
In response, Heero hooked his arms around Duo's waist and dragged him close, capturing the parted lips under his own in a kiss that was filled with every frustrated thought, every painful moment regretting, and was rewarded with Duo's equally enthusiastic kiss.   
  
Neither cared that people were gawking at them.  
  
Reluctantly, Heero, broke the kiss, one hand coming up to cup to flushed face, run through the remnants of Duo's braid. "Every word," he whispered.  
  
Duo's face broke into a delighted grin that looked like it had been the first in a long time.  
  
The room flickered around them.  
  
"I take it you won't be wanting that ticket," the woman behind the counter said, a half-laugh in her voice.  
  
Heero turned back to her, a tiny smile flickering across the usual impassive mask. "No," he said to her. "It looks like I'll be staying on L2."  
  
He and Duo walked out of the spaceport together, arms still tight around each other.  
  
+  
  
It was barely over an hour later, and Duo was enjoying himself thoroughly.  
  
He arched up against Heero, once again his lover, crying out his release even as Heero groaned and collapsed on him. Duo wrapped his arms around the Japanese boy, relishing the feel of skin-on-skin, the strong body held close to him that he had thought was lost forever.  
  
"I love you," Heero gasped into his neck, and kissed the pulse. "Aishiteiru."  
  
Duo just smiled and pulled him closer. "Don't ever leave again, you hear me?" he whispered, running his hand through Heero's hair.  
  
"No fear," Heero murmured. His panting breaths were calming, slowing as he took control of himself again. "We'll have forever together."  
  
"Forever. . . ." Duo repeated, smiling. "That has a nice ring to it."  
  
"Doesn't it just?" Heero began kissing across Duo's collarbones, nuzzling the hollow of his throat and butting his chin affectionately in one amazing movement that combined all three.  
  
"I love you. . . ." Came the whisper that slid through Heero's mind and over his skin with a feeling of wonderful joy.  
  
There are many good feelings in life, Heero decided _,_ _but none so good as loving someone and knowing that you are loved in return._ It was an achy feeling in his breastbone that made him want to kiss Duo again, and start up what they'd finished, just so that he could have another excuse to say it.   
  
He never wanted this to end. This was simply heaven.  
  
"I think I'm going to change my favorite song," Duo said in his usual 'lets-talk-about-something-that-has-absolutely-no-relevance-to-what's-going-on' way.  
  
"Oh?" Heero made an encouraging sound. As long as Duo was talking, Heero was free to do other things with his mouth.  
  
"I'm going to change it to 'Crash and Burn'."  
  
Heero raised his head from Duo's chest, staring at his lover. "That sounds ominous," he said.  
  
"You've heard it, koibito," Duo said grinning, then winced as Heero pinched his nipple in retaliation. "Okay, okay, calm down. I played it to you. You remember, 'Let me be the one you call/ If you jump I'll break your fall/ Lift you up and fly away with you into the night/ If you need to fall apart/ I can mend a broken heart/ If you need to crash then crash and burn/ You're not alone.' That one."  
  
Heero lowered his head to Duo's chest again, rubbing his cheek over the smooth muscle and just listening to him babble. Even the nonsense Duo was likely to spout was better than silence, just to hear his lover's voice, his happy tone.  
  
"It used to be 'Gunning Down Romance'," Duo continued, Heero concentrating on the fascinating feeling his chest made against Heero's cheek as his voice rumbled up. "My favorite song, I mean. Good song, but too pessimistic for how I feel now. I mean 'I'm gunning down romance/ It never did a thing for me/ But heartache and misery/ Ain't nothing but a tragedy' doesn't exactly sum up what I feel now."  
  
"Since we're on the subject of Savage Garden, what about 'Truly Madly Deeply'?" Heero asked.  
  
Duo frowned. "Don't remember that one," he said.   
  
"You don't? You used to play it all the time."  
  
"Sing it for me," Duo almost begged.  
  
"Me? Sing?" Heero snorted, then relented somewhat. "I'll be your dream/ I'll be your wish I'll be your fantasy/ I'll be your hope I'll be your love/ Be everything that you need/ I'll love you more with every breath/ Truly, madly, deeply do/ I will be strong I will be faithful/ 'cause I'm counting on/ A new beginning/ A reason for living/ A deeper meaning'."  
  
Duo took up the chant, putting a hint of tune into it as he threaded his fingers into Heero's hair. " 'I want to stand with you on/ a mountain/ I want to bathe with you in the sea/ I want to lay like this forever/ Until the sky falls down on me'. . . ."  
  
Smiling at each other, the two former Gundam pilots began to sing softly together, interspersed with Heero's soft kisses on Duo's skin.  
  
" 'And when the stars are shining/ brightly in the velvet sky/ I'll make a wish send it to heaven/ Then make you want to cry/ The tears of joy for all the/ pleasure in the certainty/ That we're surrounded by the/ comfort and protection of/ The highest powers/ In lonely hours/ The tears devour you'. . . ."  
  
Heero moved up Duo's body and gently placed a kiss on his lips. Then he plopped himself on his elbows and began a minute examination of his lover's face, looking over the gaunt lines and tiny wrinkles. Duo stared up at him quizzically.  
  
"Heero . . . what are you doing?"  
  
Heero's only response was a slight smile as he bent to kiss Duo again, hands roaming.  
  
Duo's response was instant and wanton, moving himself against Heero in such away that the Japanese boy knew exactly what he was after.   
  
Well, neither had any objections.  
  
+  
  
The two boys were woken by a small, light, girlish giggle sounding from behind them as they lay curled up together on the bed. Heero stiffened, and let go of Duo, moving far enough away to sit up and scowl at the impishly grinning Maria who had decided to coalesce at the bottom of their bed, sitting comfortably on a chest of drawers, that, typical Duo-style, had various items of clothes and other unidentifiable objects strewn across it.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he demanded grumpily, with overtones of 'omae o korosu'.  
  
"Who . . . is . . . _that_?" Duo said, propping himself up on his arms to stare at the small girl. "And how the _\--_ how did she get in here?"  
  
"You made the transition, sillies," Maria told them. "Hell to heaven. I have to welcome you officially, but I thought I'd leave you some time to get _\--_ " she paused. "Hmm. Is reacquainted the right word? Never mind. But I'm getting my butt singed with the boss telling me to get over here and officially welcome you into heaven, so I couldn't leave you for too long. Sorry." She pulled a face, then with a toss of blonde curls, gave them an impish grin.  
  
"Hell to heaven?" Duo, in confusion looked at Heero.  
  
"Ooh," Maria said, wide-eyed. "You didn't tell him. Bad boy."  
  
"Go away, Maria," Heero growled, turning to face his lover. "Duo, what do you remember happening after our . . . argument?"  
  
Duo frowned. "I came back about an hour later, and you were gone."  
  
"That's . . . not actually what happened, Duo," Heero said. "You see. . . ."  
  
Duo's eyes went wider and wider as Heero continued to explain. They soon began to take over his head.  
  
"So . . . I'm dead," Duo said at the end of Heero's speech. He was partially stunned because that was the most words he'd heard Heero speak since he'd known him, but mainly because of what those words had been.  
  
"Yes," Heero said, watching his face carefully.  
  
"And . . . you're dead," Duo continued.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And we were in hell, but now we're in heaven."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Duo looked at Maria. "Who's the boss?"  
  
She looked at him like he was crazy. "God, of course," she said as though it was intrinsically obvious.  
  
Duo looked fascinated. "What's he like?"  
  
"She's black, a smartass, and a general all-round pain in the butt," Maria replied, making a wry face. "She's more liberal than you Catholics think, though. Gays don't bother her in the slightest." She gave a half-laugh. "If they bothered her, why would she have invented them?"  
  
Duo looked shell-shocked.  
  
Heero reached out and pulled his lover close against him, glaring at Maria for adding to Duo's already confused mind, and hugged the formerly-longhaired pilot, resting his chin on his bare shoulder.  
  
Maria jumped off the chest of drawers onto the end of the bed, sitting cross-legged and beaming down its length at the two. "First things first," she said. "Number one: in heaven, you can do what you like, when you like, and where you like. This includes things like making hair grow a couple of meters overnight." She fluttered her eyelashes in Duo's direction.  
  
"Number two," she continued after a moment. "You're allowed one trip down to Earth to clear up any loose ends you want to. It's a good idea to make this trip at night, since then people are generally asleep and don't run screaming, and it's also a good idea to avoid people unless a planned part of the trip is to speak to someone. There's no time limit on the visit. And number three, you are expected to work up here, but no one's going to force you to do something you can't stand, and you can take holidays when you want, for as long as you want."  
  
Maria gave them an angelical smile, then started as though someone had poked her. She glared generally to her right. "I was just getting to that, okay?" she complained loudly to thin air, then turned back to the two pilots. "In hell, people make up their own scenarios. This can include making up people, or dragging replicas of people from the living world to this one. You can't do that here. So until Hildie dies, you won't be able to talk to her again."  
  
"Is that the same with Relena?" Heero asked hopefully.  
  
Maria nodded.  
  
"And can you keep her away from me when she does die?"  
  
"Sure thing. Looks like Relena's heading for hell, anyway."  
  
"Huh?" Duo looked even more confused, if that was possible.  
  
Maria wrinkled her nose up. "It's complicated and mostly classified," she said. "Can't say more than that. Have a nice forever together." Then she waved at them, grinned, and vanished.  
  
Duo leaned back against Heero's comforting warmth, and felt the arms tighten satisfyingly about him. "I don't feel dead," he said.  
  
Heero kissed his neck, then bit it gently. "Look on this as a second life," he said.  
  
Duo snuggled backwards, tilting his head to give Heero access to more skin. "Mm," he agreed.  
  
Heero smiled and once more began his onslaught on Duo's body.  
  
+  
  
Quatre started awake, staring at the ceiling of his and Trowa's bedroom, and wondering what it was that had woken him.  
  
Then he felt it again, a slight tugging on the sense he couldn't define, but this was impossible, completely impossible. . . . There was no way. . . .  
  
The slight tug pulled at his consciousness again.  
  
Quatre rolled over and shook Trowa's shoulder, jolting the taller pilot awake. He put a finger over Trowa's lips to forestall his lover's surprised question.  
  
"Come with me," he said, and squirmed out from under the covers.   
  
Frowning slightly, Trowa pulled himself out of the bed and dressed quickly, then followed the blond Arabian as Quatre led him outside and walked along the street.  
  
"Quatre, what are we doing?" he asked, breath misting in front of his face even as Quatre hugged himself against the cold.   
  
"I'm not sure," Quatre said, frowning slightly. "I just have the strongest feeling. . . ."  
  
It soon became apparent where Quatre was leading them.   
  
The cemetery.  
  
Once inside, Quatre frowned and began walking in a vague movement, first turning left, then stopping, frowning and moving right. Eventually he figured out roughly where he was going and began moving in a straight line for two of the newer graves.  
  
Duo's and Heero's.  
  
They were buried side by side at Quatre's request, knowing it was what the two of them would have wanted. His own personal touch stood in the center. A small plaque, barely visible if you didn't know what you were looking for, saying, 'No two people ever loved deeper or stronger. Rest in peace.'  
  
As Quatre and Trowa rounded the corner and came in line of sight with the graves, they stopped in shock.  
  
For standing in front of the two newly-carved headstones, each with an arm around the other's waist, and completely transparent, was Duo and Heero.  
  
"How could you have dropped my cross, man?" Duo was complaining. "I mean, I'd think that of all the things of mine you might have kept, that would have been at the top of the list. Even if you aren't a Catholic. Or anything vaguely religious."  
  
Heero grunted, then leaned down and a hand Quatre could see straight through swiped something glittering and golden out of the grass around Duo's grave. "There. Happy now?"  
  
Duo tipped his head on side, his braid (with a seeming life of its own) wrapping around Heero's shoulders. "It'll have to do . . . for now."  
  
"Duo . . . Heero. . . ." Quatre took a step forward, unable to hold still any longer. "Is it really you?"  
  
The ghosts' heads whipped around to stare at the blond Arabian. The two set of lovers stared at each other for a charged minute.  
  
Then Duo laughed, stepping away from his lover. "Go at night, she said. You won't meet people, she said." He laughed again.  
  
"Yes, it is us," Heero said, shooting an annoyed look at Duo.  
  
"How. . . ?" Trowa swallowed, then started again. "How is this possible?"  
  
"Don't ask me. Apparently I was in hell until about a day ago." Duo folded his arms and grinned.  
  
Quatre blinked at him.   
  
"Are you . . . are you happy?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
Heero smiled. That in itself was remarkable: it was the first time either Trowa or Quatre had seen the expression on the Japanese boy's face. He hooked an arm around Duo's waist and pulled him close again. "I have never been happier," Heero said quietly, and the American pilot leaned back against him, fitting his head into the curve of Heero's shoulder.  
  
Quatre's sudden smile stretched his mouth to its widest points. "I'm glad," he said.  
  
"We'd better be going," Heero said after a moment, kissing Duo's cheek. That affectionate gesture more than anything else satisfied Quatre that whatever had been wrong after Duo's death and before Heero's had been solved.   
  
"Yeah," Duo agreed, then turned to Trowa and Quatre. "Now I've got the opportunity, I want to say something to the two of you."  
  
"Yes?" Quatre asked.  
  
"Be happy together. Don't hurt each other over stupid things, and don't assume the worst. I want to see the two of you upstairs later on."  
  
With that parting comment, Duo latched an arm around Heero and waved as the two seemed to dissolve.  
  
"Remember . . . be happy, my friend."  
  
---


End file.
